


Shattered

by Butterfly_girl



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Eating Disorders, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 16:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16601195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly_girl/pseuds/Butterfly_girl
Summary: On the anniversary of Noct's disappearance into the crystal, Gladio finds himself slipping further and further into depression.  After spending months distancing himself from the ones he loves, can Prompto's arrival help him find the strength to start living again?





	Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> Because angst is my favourite type of Promptio...

“You want another?”

He probably should have taken more heed of the way the barmaid shook her head as she poured him another drink, of her concerned expression as she slid it across the bar towards him. He probably should have politely declined and headed back to the place Ignis insisted he at least tried to call ‘home’. He probably should have stopped the moment the walls of the room began swaying like they were part of a fun house mirror illusion. He probably should have realised by the way he was able to gulp down the alcohol without even tasting it that he’d already had at least one too many. He should have been old enough to know his limits. And he was. He _did_. He just didn’t care.

It had been 5 years to the day since his life had been turned upside down by Noct’s disappearance. He'd dedicated his entire life to looking after him, to protecting him, to making sure no harm came to him. Not that he'd minded. Sure it had been his job, the path set out for him from the moment he'd been born. But it had been so much more than that. Noct had been a friend. A brother almost. 

But none of that mattered now. It had all disappeared in the blink of an eye. A single moment in time that had changed his entire life. So much time had passed that some days, when he closed his eyes, he struggled to picture Noct's face. But it hadn’t been long enough to dull the pain he felt at not having him by his side. He wasn't sure it would ever be long enough for that. Whoever had come up with the phrase ‘time is a healer’ was a fucking liar. In his experience, time had healed nothing at all…

He was trying to get the barmaid’s attention, his tongue clumsily slurring his words as he leant across the bar, when he heard a voice behind them.

“Thought I might find you here…”

He didn't look up, instead reaching across to grab his glass and clasping it tightly in his hand. He didn't need to turn around to know immediately who the voice belonged to. And how could he not? All those nights they’d spent making plans and sharing dreams, whispering in hushed tones so as not to disturb the others. All those days they’d spent joking and laughing together, fighting through the constant challenges their journey seemed to throw at them. Those soothing, comforting words in his ear following his father’s death- understanding yet at the same time urging him to stay strong. He’d missed it over the past few months, the bleak silence which filled his apartment the perfect companion to the emptiness he felt inside.

Now, though, the voice brought with it a sense of melancholy which felt all too familiar. After all they’d been through, it was only natural that this voice dredged up memories- the exact same memories he’d come here to escape.

“It’s good to know I’m so predictable,” he mumbled in response, gulping down the rest of his drink and brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face. It had been a long time since anything close to scissors had touched his hair and he knew it had gotten far too long, the tangles and knots that met his fingers as he ran them through it a clear sign that he should probably have given in and let Ignis fix it the last time he’d offered. 

“It does seem that way these days, doesn’t it?”

He twisted round on the bar stool and gazed in the direction of the voice, the sight of its owner still enough to cause the butterflies in his stomach to leap and flutter all over the place. Gods, he'd missed that face, and the man it belonged to. 

"Hi, Prom." 

Gladio glanced at him for the briefest of moments before quickly looking away, his heart racing as he tried to reconcile the man in front of him with the picture he had in his head. He knew it had been a while since he'd seen him but he hadn't expected such a drastic change. He was pale, the dark bags under his eyes swollen and more pronounced than ever against his ghostly skin. The once-vivid violet irises seemed to have dulled in the absence of sunlight with no sign of the twinkle that was usually present. But the thing that upset Gladio the most was that the freckles he'd always loved had faded so much they were almost invisible, their absence making Prompto's face look strangely empty and unfamiliar. 

“Hey.” Prompto smiled at him warmly, his features lighting up as he gazed back at him. 

This was more like it. This was the Prompto he remembered- full of life and laughter, a shining light even on the darkest night. It was one of the many reasons he’d loved him…. One of the reasons he couldn’t stop loving him no matter how hard he tried to forget about him.

Gladio met his eyes, his own lips twisting into the beginnings of a smile to match Prompto’s own. But as he looked him up and down, taking in more and more of his appearance, the smile began to waver. He’d always been slim, especially compared with Gladio’s bulky frame and broad shoulders, but any muscle definition he’d had seemed to have vanished. His clothes hung off his tiny frame, the sleeves of his jacket rolled up to reveal wrists that looked like they might snap at the gentlest touch. The round neck of his shirt left his neck exposed, and Gladio couldn’t help but flinch when he spotted his collarbone, painfully pronounced as it protruded out from underneath his skin.

“Was there anything in particular you needed me for?” He cleared his throat, looking away and wrapping his hands around his empty glass for comfort. It had been years since he’d seen Prompto like this and it hurt him more than anything to see the extent of his suffering displayed all over his body. “It’s just that I’m very busy, as you can see.”

“Busy drowning your sorrows, you mean?”

“That’s not what’s going on here.”

“Clearly…” Gladio could see him out of the corner of his eye, arms folded across his chest and one eyebrow raised as he looked from Gladio to the line of empty shot glasses and back again, lips pursed into a tight line as he waited for a response. 

“Look, Prompto.” He growled the name through gritted teeth, the knot of anger that had been burning his stomach finally bubbling to the surface despite his attempts to keep it bolted down. He didn’t want to lose his temper. Not now. Not here. Not at Prompto of all people. His words had been full of love, spoken out of care and compassion and shared sympathy. But he didn’t deserve them. Not after the way he’d behaved. He could feel the frustration he’d been hiding for so long building up inside him, and before he realised what was happening he was on his feet and shouting. “Just leave me the fuck alone.” 

He slammed his glass down with far more force than he intended, causing it to shatter and send shards of glass flying all over the bar. The barmaid shook her head at him but didn’t speak, merely grabbing a cloth, sweeping the sharp fragments onto the floor and brushing them out of harm’s way with her foot. He took a deep breath, slowly lowering himself back onto his stool and rubbing his hands across his eyes. He could hear Prompto’s shallow breathing from across the bar and covered his face with his hands. He didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to see the hurt behind those beautiful eyes. Not again. He rested his elbows on the bar and stared down at it, focusing on the worn wooden surface, lined with spiralling, twisting cracks that spread across the surface like swirling trickles of water. “We all have our own ways of coping. This is mine, okay? This is what I need right now.”

“There are less destructive ways…” Prompto spoke quietly and gently, his words laced with so much concern that Gladio had to force back tears, a lump forming in his throat as he tried to swallow them down. 

He glanced down at his hands, his white knuckles indicating he’d been clenching his fists without even realising it. He felt angry again and he didn’t quite know why. All he knew was that every word coming from Prompto’s mouth stung, fuelling the fire that had been burning inside him for months now. Every phrase was like gasoline; all it needed was one single spark for him to explode, and if that happened he didn’t know what he might do or say. But he did know that it would end up with Prompto getting hurt. Again. And none of this was his fault. It was himself that he was angry with, himself that he wanted to punish and hurt. But Prompto was there- merely an innocent victim in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

“Because you’d know, wouldn’t you?” He spoke through gritted teeth, his anger finally winning over his efforts to remain silent. He glanced up, his hunched frame exuding an animosity that was like acid: burning and slicing and potent. “Prompto Argentum: the master of the healthy coping mechanism,” he sneered, gesturing accusingly in Prompto’s direction. 

Prompto’s eyes narrowed and he quickly pulled his sleeves down to cover his arms, fidgeting awkwardly with the loose material of his jacket before tightly wrapping it around his chest as though he was cocooning himself in some sort of protective armour. 

“For fuck’s sake, Gladio,” Prompto muttered, combing his free hand through his untidy mop of hair and letting his long bangs fall forward to cover one eye. He peered at him through the blonde veil, his expression as hard and determined as ever. “I”m trying to help you.”

“I don’t need your help. I’m managing perfectly fine on my own.”

“Yeah, well…” Prompto's voice cracked and he let it trail off, leaving behind a silence which clung to Gladio’s skin like a poison. It seemed to seep into his blood, leaving his heart pounding and his hands trembling uncontrollably. He clenched his fists again to hide the tremor, staring down at a drop of liquid which was snaking its way down one of the cracks in the bar. After what felt like hours he tore his eyes away and forced himself to gaze into Prompto’s violet irises, which were filled with the kind of gentle concern that reminded him of his father. Gladio took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it slowly and gradually. “It just… it doesn’t look that way. Gladdy- I just don’t want you to fuck up the rest of your life.” Prompto stopped suddenly, biting his lower lip nervously. He reached up to rub the back of his neck, pulling his hair forwards over one shoulder and fiddling with a particularly long and wavy strand. 

“That’s rich, coming from you.” The knot in Gladio’s stomach seemed to twist and tighten and he swallowed, unsure if the nausea was a result of anger or sadness or simply from the sheer volume of alcohol he’d drunk that evening. He cleared his throat, his voice sticking awkwardly at the back of his mouth when he next tried to speak. “Iggy already told me you’ve been starving yourself again, which is fucking obvious by looking at you anyway. You look like shit. Seriously Prom, you think I’m not coping? Take a look in the mirror! What you’re doing is fucked up, it really is…”

He stopped suddenly when he caught sight of Prompto, the hurt he’d caused etched across his face for all to see. He watched as he pulled his jacket around him more tightly, turning up the collar so it covered his neck and letting his hair fall forward as he stared down at the ground, scuffing the edge of his sneaker nervously across the floorboards. He was picking at the skin around his fingernails now, a habit that wasn’t exactly new but had clearly worsened since the last time Gladio had seen him. The skin there was already scarred and thick and calloused and bloody, but still Prompto continued to pick and scrape subconsciously whenever his hands weren’t busy. A substitute for his camera, Gladio supposed. He’d always had it in his hands, snapping away multiple times each day. But he hadn’t seen him with it for a long time now. Not that there was anything to take pictures of these days anyway…

“Prom…” Gladio began, his voice trailing off as he saw Prompto shake his head. Slumping forwards, he buried his face in his hands, softly letting out a pained, guttural growl.

Prompto let out a tiny sniff which he quickly hid behind a cough, wiping the back of his hand across his nose as he looked up. “I’m glad you told me what you really think of me…”

“Yeah well…” Gladio rubbed his face roughly with both hands, dragging his fingers through his hair and piling it into a loose bun on the top of his head. “For fuck’s sake,” he muttered, nervously fumbling with the hair tie before giving up and letting the hair fall back down over his shoulders. “You always said you wanted honesty, right?”

“You want honesty?” There was anger in Prompto’s voice now- anger that Gladio hadn’t heard for a long time. Anger that he’d never heard directed at him. “Let me tell you the truth. Yes, I’m struggling. I’m…” He swallowed, his hand moving unconsciously to his hair where he continued to play with an already knotted section behind his right ear. He met Gladio’s eye unblinkingly, his expression one of determination. “I’m not eating properly- though you’ve already noticed that. I have body image problems.” He lowered his hand, shoving it into the pocket of his jacket. “Gods, Gladio, there are some days where I struggle to get out of bed, where I can’t look in the mirror without crying.” Prompto’s voice quivered slightly but he continued anyway, not once breaking eye contact despite his obvious discomfort. He paused when Gladio glanced away, unable to look at him, unable to watch as he forced himself to open up, to bare his soul to the world in a way that he so rarely did. After a few moments he continued, his voice more confident, urging Gladio to look at him, to see the hurt that filled his eyes. “But I do get up. I’m dealing with it. I’m trying to get better- which you’d know if you were around more often. But you… you’re destroying your life, and for what?” 

Gladio stared back wordlessly, his throat constricted to the point that he could barely take in air let alone force out the words. Not that he knew what he would have said even if he was able to speak. Prompto was right. Why was he doing this? It wasn’t making him feel better, after all.

“Gladio…” Prompto moved forward, tentatively at first as though he half expected Gladio to respond with anger, as though he expected him to lash out and hurt him. And of course that’s what he expected after his earlier outburst. But Gladio merely sat there, burying his head in his hands as he tried to block out Prompto’s words. He felt a hand on his shoulder, the skin hard and calloused against his cold skin, and he looked up, wanting nothing more than to reach up and embrace him, to run his hands through that long, blonde hair and pull him towards him, to press his mouth against those soft, pink lips and show him how much he still loved him. But he didn’t do any of that. Instead, he simply pressed his mouth into a firm line and raised his eyebrows in frustration, a signal for Prompto to stop talking and fuck off. “You think this is what he’d want? You think he’d be happy to see you here like this? Doing… whatever it is you’re doing to yourself? Because I’m pretty sure he’d want you to be happy. He’d want _us_ to be happy. Why can’t we just do that? Why can’t we just try?”

“I gave up trying a long time ago.” Gladio shrugged Prompto off and turned his back on him, picking up the glass of water that had miraculously appeared in front of him. He shivered, already missing the sensation of familiar warm skin against his but didn’t turn back. “Why bother. Life just fucks you over anyway.” He voice trailed off and he took a sip of water, very aware of Prompto’s breath against the back of his head, a cool breeze as it brushed against his hair. He sighed loudly, every hushed tremor, every quivering exhale making it more difficult to resist turning to face him.

“I guess I’ll leave you to your drink then.” He heard soft footsteps begin to fade away as Prompto moved towards the door and he gripped his glass more tightly, clenching every muscle in his body as his eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”

The creak of the door opening seemed to startle him into action, as though he’d been frozen in time and was suddenly awoken as reality crashed down around him. If he didn’t do something quickly, he would lose him. He would lose the one he loved more than anyone else in the world. And if that happened there really would be no point continuing. “Wait… Prom.” He snapped round, his hair falling loosely around his shoulders like a waterfall in negative. “Please don’t leave. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He choked up, the desperation in his voice shocking even himself. “I didn’t mean to say those things. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just the vodka talking, that’s all.” He swallowed another gulp of water and then another, the water soothing him as it trickled across his lips and down his throat. “You know I’d never hurt you.”

Prompto gazed back at him, his eyes wide and face pale. “I don’t know that. I’m not sure I know you anymore.”

“I guess we’ve both changed.”

“I guess we have…”

Gladio leant his head down on the bar, his hands grasping at his hair. Prompto moved so quietly that Gladio didn’t even realise he was beside him until he felt a hand on his head and fingers laced around his own, burying themselves in his hair and massaging his scalp gently. He let out a choked sob, one that he’d been holding back for a long time, which turned into a wail as he felt Prompto’s arms around him, so close now that he could smell him, the familiar aroma filling the air around him and bringing back so many memories that Gladio couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh, it’s okay. We’re okay.” Prompto perched on the bar stool next to him, his fingers running up and down Gladio’s back now, rubbing reassuring circles into the bare skin at the back of his neck. He continued, deft fingers moving in rhythmic patterns as though they were dancing across his skin, the tenderness of his touch fuelling Gladio’s tears. Gladio leant his head on his chest, relieved to feel his hair fall across his face to hide his tear-streaked cheeks and puffy eyes. 

“But I hurt you…” He sniffed, pressing his head more firmly into Prompto’s body, the now-damp material of his shirt uncomfortable as it clung to his skin.

Prompto chuckled, letting a hand drift across the side of Gladio’s face, catching the hair that clung to his skin and tucking it behind one ear. “If I can single-handedly take down a coeurl, I’m pretty sure I can withstand a few drunken truths.” He pressed a kiss to Gladio’s forehead before sitting up and taking his face in his hands. “It may surprise you, but I’m pretty damn strong these days.”

“It doesn’t surprise me.” Gladio sat up, placing his hands over Prompto’s and tugging them gently away from his cheeks. He smiled sadly, shaking his hair away from his face and licking his lips to scoop up the last salty tear that had caught there. He squeezed Prompto’s hands, raising one to his lips and kissing each knuckle- grazed and rough as they always were these days- in turn, taking his time to savour the sensation. “And Prom?” He looked up, letting go of Prompto’s hand and reaching up to run his thumb across his nose, tracing the line of freckles that he knew was still hidden. “I’ve always seen you as being strong. In fact, you’re probably the strongest person I know.”

“I try my best!” Prompto chuckled, leaning forward and resting his head on Gladio’s shoulder, the blonde tufts that stubbornly stuck up on the top of his head despite the lack of styling product tickling the skin under Gladio’s chin.

“Thanks for finding me.” Wrapping his arm around Prompto’s shoulder, he pulled him closer. He paused fighting for the right words. Prompto had been brave enough to open up to him- now it was his turn for honesty. Not the fake bravado honesty of their earlier conversation. Not honesty aimed to hurt. Real honesty. The hard kind. “I know I’ve spent a lot of time hiding from you recently. I just didn’t want to disappoint you. You’re dealing with this so well and I’m just falling apart piece by piece.” He let his fingers drift across Prompto’s left shoulder, a few darker freckles still visible there against his light skin, a few isolated stars left in an otherwise clear sky.

“Gladio- you said it yourself.” Prompto straightened up and turned to face him, his bangs so long they fell in messy waves all the way to his top lip. He brushed them away, his hand lingering near his mouth as he nibbled anxiously on the skin around his thumbnail. Gladio pulled Prompto’s hand away from his mouth and held it in his, staring at the shredded, pink skin on the tip of his thumb where his nail had been bitten down to a short, painful-looking stump. It was a habit he knew Prompto had been trying to break for years, even going as far as to wear thick, woollen gloves in the middle of summer one year to stop himself from being tempted. He opened his mouth to comment on the state of his hands but quickly closed it again. Now wasn’t the time. If this is what Prompto needed to cope… well, there were worse things. “I’m not exactly doing great myself. I mean, I’m trying but…”

“And that’s the difference, isn’t it? You’re trying. You’re fighting. Whereas sometimes it feels like I’ve given up already.”

“You haven’t.” Prompto spoke with such eager determination and encouragement that Gladio couldn’t help but grin in spite of himself. “You can pull yourself back from this. I’ve been there, Gladdy. I know how you’re feeling. I know everyone really says that, but I really have.” He stopped to shuffle around on his stool, angling himself so that his knees were pressed into the insides of Gladio’s thighs. His jacket slipped down over one shoulder to reveal more of his skeletal frame and he quickly reached up to pull it back around his, biting his lip as he watched Gladio’s expression. “I mean, you’ve seen it, right? I’ve been on the edge, ready to jump.”

Gladio rested his hands on Prompto’s legs and leant forwards until they were so close they were almost touching. When he spoke he spoke softly, the question he’d wanted to ask so many times in the past spilling out of his lips without a second thought. “And how did you turn things around? What happened?”

Prompto pressed his forehead against Gladio’s and rubbed his nose against his affectionately. “You happened.” He blinked, his eyelashes catching against the sensitive skin of Gladio’s eyelids and Gladio pulled back just enough to give him the space to drop a playful kiss on the tip of his nose. 

“I thought I’d lost you.” Gladio wrapped both hands around the back of Prompto’s head, letting his fingers explore the new longer hair covering the back of his neck. It was different and unfamiliar but it felt nice, the soft strands pleasurable as they swept in between Gladio’s fingers and over the back of his hands. 

“You could never lose me, Gladdy.” Prompto relaxed, his smile more genuine now, the first glimpse of the sparkle that had been missing from his eyes beginning to return. Underneath his hands, Gladio felt his muscles loosen, the tension he’d been holding in his shoulders since the first moment Gladio had cast eyes on him finally easing. He sighed happily, allowing Gladio to pull him closer towards him and press a firm kiss against his lips, lingering there as he continued to speak so that his words cast a gentle breeze over Gladio’s mouth and chin. “I’ll always be here. And maybe this time I can be your turn around?”

“I’m gonna keep pushing you away.” Gladio heard his voice crack and closed his eyes, trying to focus on Prompto’s sweet scent rather than the stench of alcohol that clung to his hair and clothing. He swallowed and licked his lips, savouring the last remaining bitterness of the vodka that had sunk into his skin. Even the tiniest whiff of the stuff these days made him crave another drink, and once he started one was never enough. He wanted to be with Prompto, he really did. But if they were going to do this, if they were going to try, he needed to be honest- no matter how painful it was to admit the truth. “I… I have a problem, Prom. I’ll hurt you.”

“Maybe you will.” Prompto sat up, placing a hand on Gladio’s cheek and smoothing his fingers reassuringly over it, the coolness of his palm soothing against the salty, stinging skin the earlier river of tears had left behind.

Gladio placed his hand on top of Prompto’s and squeezed gently, his heart fluttering in his chest when he caught sight of Prompto’s face, his eyes so kind and understanding that Gladio wondered why he hadn’t just confided in him from the start. “This is gonna be really fucking hard, you know?”

“The best things always are…”. Prompto let his lips dust over Gladio’s one more time, the touch so light that it was almost imperceptible.

Gladio ran his tongue over his lips, warm and swollen and slightly damp from tears, before taking a deep breath. With Prompto by his side, he felt like he could do anything. And it was time to get his life back.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, all feedback is very much appreciated c:
> 
> [Come and chat on tumblr](https://butterfly-girl86.tumblr.com/).


End file.
